


Don't Mind the Fall

by Liralen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Flirting, M/M, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 15:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liralen/pseuds/Liralen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry keeps doing things to try and get Niall's attention, but Niall is oblivious, so Harry steps up his game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Mind the Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Very much inspired by the numerous recent pictures and GIFs of Harry biting Niall's hoodie. Unbetaed and not Brit-picked, with apologies for any major offenses.

Niall is seriously _the_ slowest kid on the block. They always make fun of Liam for being slow on the uptake, but Liam could have learned particle physics – Liam could have learned how to _spell_ – in the time Harry's spent waiting for Niall to buy a clue.  
  
It isn't as if Harry's been especially subtle. Harry doesn't know _how_ to be subtle. It's one of his more endearing qualities. He knows because Louis always gives him shit for it, and in Louis-speak that means he likes it.  
  
"Careful," Niall soothes absently as Harry tries to lean into him, catching a hand under Harry's arm and helping him upright. "Ground's a bit uneven there."  
  
Harry glances down at the ground, which is perfectly level. "Thanks," he sighs, and Niall flashes him a small, fond smile.  
  
A few minutes later, as they're changing positions for the photographer, Harry 'accidentally' stumbles and lands on Niall's lap. He hears Niall's 'oof' and throws his head back to look at Niall upside-down, showing his best grin and murmuring, "My hero."  
  
Niall barks a laugh, his face going a little red, and pats Harry's shoulder.  
  
"You're a bit of a klutz today, eh?" Niall teases, giving Harry's shoulders a squeeze and then helpfully levering him back up onto his feet. "Steady now mate?"  
  
Harry would suspect Niall's fucking with him, but the smile he gives him is so sweet and fond and totally _oblivious_. Harry just nods, suppressing a groan, and agrees, "Steady enough."  
  
Harry goes so far as to _bite Niall's jumper_ , lifting the hood up carefully in his teeth and giving it a little tug. His gaze is hot and intent on the nape of Niall's neck, the small patch of skin he exposes when he pulls at the cloth with his mouth, and Niall has to feel it, doesn't he? The heat of Harry's stare – which he likes to imagine is smoldering, although it probably just looks a bit deranged, he's never learned to make a proper moody face when he's trying – practically burning up the base of Niall's throat.  
  
But Niall just turns his head and laughs, scrunches his brow up as he asks Harry if it's time to break for lunch, if he's hungry enough to start chewing on Niall's clothes, and Harry just – he gives up. He doesn't know what the hell else to do.  
  
*  
  
"Have you tried actually _telling_ him you want to snog him?" Louis asks around a messy mouthful of salad. Louis seems to think that he can regain the manly points he loses by eating salads if he eats them really savagely. Harry should point out that it doesn't really work that way, but he's sort of interested to see whether Louis's going to choke or spit that bit of cabbage clear across the room.  
  
"Of course I've tried that," Harry replies, picking at the crust of his sandwich. "I tried that first. It must have been weeks ago I went right up to him and said, 'Niall, I like you.'"  
  
"And what did he say?"  
  
"He said, 'I'm quite fond of you too, Harry,' and hugged me."  
  
"Well did you tell him you didn't mean it like that?" Louis asks, exasperated. And also a bit mumbled, because really, that much lettuce just shouldn't fit in a person's mouth. His jaw looks like it's about to unhinge like a snake.  
  
"Yes! I said, 'No, I really, really _like_ you. I fancy you quite a lot.'"  
  
"Uhn-ha-hih-he-uhh?"  
  
Harry crinkles his nose up. "He stared at me for a moment and then told me he wasn't going to share his pie. Seriously, Lou, you've got to _chew_."  
  
And then Harry has to stop moping so he can whack Louis in the back before he suffocates in absolutely the lamest death on earth.  
  
*  
  
After they've finished lunch, and after Louis's stopped coughing and they've got the redness down in his eyes, Harry redoubles his efforts to get Niall's attention. He probably crosses the line between 'playful seduction' to 'all out annoyance', but it's not his fault Niall is thick.  
  
Over the next hour he cuddles, grabs, squeezes, kisses, all but sticks his hand down the front of Niall's trousers, and all with the same maddening result – Niall's laughter, increasingly strained as the shoot wears on, and his gentle attempts to redirect Harry's hands (and knees, and mouth) to safer territory. At one point Harry tries to brush a kiss over his neck, and Niall ducks so fast that Harry topples over and ends up smacking his face right into Liam's in a decidedly unsexy and very painful way. He groans and rolls to the floor, hands over his smarting jaw, bruised and defeated.  
  
It's obvious by now, so obvious Harry can't lie to himself anymore: Niall isn't oblivious. Niall just isn't interested.  
  
*  
  
Harry mopes through the rest of the photo shoot. He mopes in the dressing room, tugging his own shirt back on and rubbing a lackluster hand over his curls. He doesn't even _care_ what his hair looks like right now. He says it aloud and Zayn looks so confused and upset that it makes Harry laugh, and then he's even more cross because he doesn't _want_ to laugh, he wants to be left alone to wallow.  
  
"Have at it then," Louis tells him, lifting and dropping his hands in a gesture of 'well-if-you're-going-to-be-like-that'. "We're going out. Text me if you decide to stop being a 12 year old girl and want to come out."  
  
"I saved your life!" Harry shouts after Louis's retreating back, and then the boys are gone. Harry gets himself comfortable on the bed with the telly on some mindless movie and settles in for a good, long sulk.  
  
He's alone for less than five minutes when the door opens again and Niall comes in, rubbing the back of his hand around his mouth and looking sheepish. "Forgot my wallet," he explains, gesturing to the dresser, which is piled high with junk.  
  
"Oh," Harry says, spirits deflating, because for a moment there he thought, maybe… "I think it's under Zayn's shoe."  
  
Niall pokes at the detritus spread across the desk, lifting one of Zayn's trainers by the laces and snagging his wallet from beneath it. "Cheers," he says weakly, waving the wallet vaguely in the air before tucking it in his pocket, and then he just stands there, staring at Harry.  
  
"…Was there something else you needed help finding?" Harry asks.  
  
"No," Niall shakes his head. "No, I just… Harry, are you alright?"  
  
Harry shrugs, sticking his clasped hands between his knees and trying not to look quite as pathetic under Niall's steady gaze as he feels. "I'm alright," he assures. "I mean, I'll be alright. You don't have to worry, or feel bad, or anything."  
  
"Why should I feel bad?" Niall asks, brow creasing.  
  
"You shouldn't," Harry tells him. "That's what I mean. You shouldn't feel bad, it's not your fault. You feel how you feel, and I feel how I feel, and it's no one's fault, it just sucks a bit. Well, a lot, really, but I'll get over it."  
  
"…Get over what?" Niall asks, turning his body fully toward Harry now, the intensity of his gaze heavy and focused. "Harry, how do you feel?"  
  
"Don't," Harry implores. "Don't make me tell you again, it's embarrassing. I know you don't feel the same way, and it's… it's okay."  
  
"Harry," Niall says slowly, gaze shifting rapidly across Harry's face, like he's taking in every detail and only just beginning to put them all together, "the other day, when you said… were you actually being _serious?_ "  
  
"Of course I was being serious," Harry replies, wounded. "Why wouldn't I have been serious?"  
  
"You're never serious!"  
  
"I am so! My god, Niall, I told you I _fancied_ you."  
  
"You tell people you and Louis are _married_. You grabbed Liam's crotch three times today!"  
  
"Yeah, but I grabbed yours too! And I tried to kiss you and you _ducked_."  
  
"Harry," Niall sighs, hands up near his shoulders like he doesn't know what to do with them to signal just how exasperated he is, "you try to kiss _everyone_. How was I supposed to know it was different?"  
  
"I…" Harry faulters, brows dipping to meet in consternation. "I don't know. It just was. I knew it was."  
  
"Well then that makes one of us," Niall says dryly.  
  
"Two. I told Louis."  
  
"Oh, excellent, you told Louis. You managed to let _Louis_ know you liked me, but not me."  
  
"Hey." Harry looks up with wide eyes, a buzz of excitement warming his stomach. "Does that mean you don't not like me?"  
  
"Give me a minute to work that one out," Niall teases, but he's blushing now, the ruddy color starting to spread down his neck. "No, Harry, I don't not like you. I like you quite a bit, in fact."  
  
"Yeah?" Harry says, grinning. He doesn't remember deciding to move, but he's rolled to his knees and crawling toward the end of the bed, and Niall's stepping closer, so that at last they're close enough to touch. Harry reaches out, careful, and Niall half-flinches away before steadying and letting Harry cup one big hand around his jaw, eyes fluttering at the contact.  
  
"Really?" Niall's voice is soft and low, scraped up from his throat, and Harry can't help it when his gaze falls to Niall's mouth. "Really? Me?"  
  
"Really, you," Harry murmurs, brushing his thumb over Niall's lip, then again when it elicits a small shiver. "Why not you?"  
  
"I don't know. I just…" Niall shrugs, flushes a little darker. "I thought it was Louis, all this time, or maybe, Zayn, I don't know. I just…I'm not like them. I'm just _me_."  
  
"Exactly." Harry smiles, eyes flickering back up to meet Niall's, seeing the tiny creases around his eyes as he smiles back. "Is it alright if we stop talking and I kiss you now? Only I've sort of been waiting awhile."  
  
"Don't let me stop you," Niall tries to tell him, but he doesn't have a chance to get the whole sentence out before Harry's mouth is pressed to his. Hot and soft and serious, not at all like a tease, not at all like fucking around, and Niall suddenly doesn't know how he ever mistook this for anything else.  
  
He brings his arms up around Harry's back, pulling him close and tilting his head to take the kiss deeper, turn it wet and hungry. Harry feels his spine bow, feels his knees slide on the blankets. He's tumbling backwards, dragging Niall down with him, mouths still connected in a hot, devouring kiss, and he finds he doesn't mind the fall.


End file.
